


Self Worth

by 0The_Girl_In_The_Back0



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Addict!Reid, Dilauded, trigger warning: drug abuse and self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21856156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0The_Girl_In_The_Back0/pseuds/0The_Girl_In_The_Back0
Summary: Spencer’s addiction made his insecurities grow and his mental and physical health die. Addiction was a grueling process on his self-esteem and challenged his relationships with the people he loved most. Eventually, he seeks help.I’m not good at summaries, this is a one-shot, and the ending is a little abstract.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 68





	Self Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Dn’t own CM or any of its characters, I just own this story.  
Excuse typos, my keyboard is new and I’m not used to it yet and I probably missed some.  
This is Reid-centric, no relationships or anything.

_ I hate you _

He looked himself in the eye, the reflection proving to him just he weak he is. His sleeves were rolled up and he could see them. The track marks. The evidence of an addiction he didn’t want to start. Seeing those little red marks on his inner arm made him hate himself, but they also made him hungry. He itched to grab those bottles from his bag, the syringe just below them. To feel that poison shooting through his veins, to feel his mind stop just enough that he could forget his failures.

“Reid, you in here?” Morgan’s voice knocked him from his reverie. He quickly pulled down his sleeves and turned to face his teammate.

“Yeah, man, get off my back, jeeze...” he brushed past him and went to the roundtable room. He ignored the stares and grabbed the case file.

* * *

_ I hate you _

He watched the plunge go down, not fully feeling it. His high began hours ago, but it started to fade and he needed to keep it going. Needed to stop feeling. He didn’t usually use twice in a day, but he needed it today.

“Spencer, I knew it would be you who came to the cabin...” His head had lolled back and he began reciting the letter without even realizing it. He lazily smiled and gave a short laugh. His arms felt heavy as he tried to pick them up to fan his face. He felt moisture build in his armpits and on his palms. He wiped them on his pants and laughed again. 

“I knew it would be you who came to the cabin...water.” He interrupted himself, the dryness of his mouth overtaking his thoughts of that damned letter. “I need water.” He stumbled from the floor, letter sliding under the couch and forgotten in the midst of his high.

* * *

_ I hate you _

He stared at David Rossi, mouth shut and shoulders tense. An idol of his since he had his heart set on the BAU, he knew he didn’t give a damn for his near-childish obsession of him and his novels. His rambling scared him off, Hotch shutting him down made his anxiety spike and his addiction jitter in the back of his mind. He escaped to the jet bathroom, cradling his head in his hands.

“Why can’t you just shut up...” he whispered, voice barely more than a breath through his lips. “Learn when people don’t care anymore, you moron...”

“Reid? You in there? We’re debriefing.” Emily’s voice was muffled by the door. He passed her, ignoring the concern in her eyes. He didn’t need her imput.

* * *

“I hate you.”

“That’s a rather strong opinion of yourself, don’t you think?” He looked from the hand mirror to his therapist, her head cocked and hand poised to make notes.

“I think it’s the nicest thing I say to myself.” He rested the mirror down beside him. This was a stupid exercise anyways, a way for his therapist to understand just how deep his self hatred goes by him telling him the thoughts that sprung to his mind as he met his own eyes.

“Why is that?” She tapped her finger on her pen and his eyes tracked the movement, trying to think of an answer.

“I don’t know.”

“What about yourself is worthy of such strong self-loathing?”

“You’ve met me. I believe that’s more reasoning I could ever give you.” He rested his hand over where the track marks rest beneath the rough fabric of his shirt. He didn’t miss the way her eyes flittered from the movement back to his face. 

“Can you explain that?”

“I don’t think I’m worthy of love.”

“Why?” Each question grated on his nerves, making him desire for his drugs even more. “I can’t make your self-loathing disappear, Spencer, though I wish I could. I can only plant seeds in your head that you water yourself. We’re almost done with your last assigned session, so I’ll give you some homework to complete. Try and figure out why you hate yourself, where it stems from. And then come up with reasons as to why you should love yourself instead. From the man I’ve been speaking with the last six weeks, you are not a man who deserves to hate yourself.”

As he left her office at the end of their session, his mind drifted to the bottles and syringes in his bag. He went to the nearest bridge and thought of what she said. He took out his Dilauded, the stock just picked up from his dealer last night, and set them on the rail in front of him. His mind raced until he could identify the source of his hatred. And as he left the bridge, his mind repeating the list of reasons why he should try and love himself, he didn’t think of the bottles on the rail.


End file.
